


The Eighth Year Yule Ball

by TheUltimateUndesirable



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxious Harry Potter, Awkward Crush, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Banter, Bisexual Harry Potter, Dancing, Drarry Strugglefest 2020, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay Draco Malfoy, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, I Tried, M/M, Minor Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Minor Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Mutual Pining, Not Epilogue Compliant, POV First Person, POV Harry Potter, Party, Pining, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Teen Romance, Triwizard Tournament, What Was I Thinking?, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25588540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateUndesirable/pseuds/TheUltimateUndesirable
Summary: Students return for their eighth year of Hogwarts to make up for the battle riddled seventh year. It just happens to be time for another Triwizard Tournament that gives them all the opportunity to experience such a special event once again. They all want that fun chance, and plan to take it. Even Harry if he can manage pursuing the only person he has any interest in.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 19
Kudos: 121
Collections: Drarry Strugglefest 2020





	The Eighth Year Yule Ball

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I would like to defend myself. I tried hard to resist this fest but after what I’m sure was weeks of temptation and nagging I was coerced into it. I’m keeping this short and simple in a safe rating for some friends and variety. I also decided to give this a shot at something I’ve never done but I've wanted to try First person POV. Not people’s favorite I know but for some reason I felt it could fit this prompt. For that reason I struggled a lot so go into this with low standards. I still said what the hell though. It's a struggle fest after all is it not?  
> -insert fake laughter and running away to hide-

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/189190041@N05/50159332102/in/dateposted-public/)

Anymore when our eyes make contact for me it’s like the whole world zones in on just him. No matter where we are in the castle. I’m not sure if he is aware of it, but his eyes always linger for a moment before finally he looks away. He always looks away first. Sometimes I think I can make out a blush on his cheeks as he turns depending on the angle. That could just be my imagination though. It has been going on like this for months now after all, but now I’m not sure how much longer I can take it. 

  
I’m not even sure what changed or why. All I know is it has. It changed that day in the Manor, I can pinpoint that much at least. When he refused to identify me, the way he looked into my eyes…..it was like I was seeing the man for the first time and like he was seeing me. His grey eyes, which actually held a hint of blue, were unfiltered. They were open, pained, concerned and a whole other range of emotions. What hit home though was it felt like he was seeing me for the first time too. 

  
There was longing in the background of his eyes. I don't know if that was the fear of a psychopath in his house or actually because of me. Probably both honestly, but it felt like for me and it struck me with something hard. 

  
No longer could I see the arrogant little git of a boy that annoyed the sanity out of me. Maybe it had something to do with the bathroom incident sixth year, or perhaps all the scenes from Voldermort I got to see of him. Because I mean of course he is still a git, but it’s like I could understand him in a new light. A new light that had me wanting to hold him close and talk about all that has ever happened and why. I originally felt both uncomfortable and warmed by the idea. If this works though, I might finally get to. 

  
I have already tried four times. Four bloody times, and it feels like I’m getting no closer to asking him. The days are dwindling and I need to. Hell maybe he has already asked someone to go to the ball with him because I’m to stupid to figure out how to do it. Every time I think it’s the right time or that this is finally the right way, something has to go wrong. 

  
Like when I left the note on his dorm bed asking him to meet me, not that I put my name on it or anything, in the courtyard after curfew. I got to watch him incendio it myself considering all eight years shared a common room and dorms now. That try had just been an absolutely horrible idea.

  
There was also my attempt to send him flowers via owl like some cheesy romantic clique thinking a formal approach would appeal to him. Pureblood bullshit his family seemed to practice. It, of course, hadn’t for whatever reason. He merely frowned at the bouquet and then Pansy Parkinson herself snatched it out of his hands after a few seconds. 

  
That had infuriated me. The prat hadn't even seemed to care what happened to them either, and nothing came of it like it should have. Whether that be public humiliation or a date considering I had finally flat out asked him, something should have happened.

  
Later that evening after everyone was working their way to their common rooms I couldn't help but linger out of curiosity and admittedly some anxiety. When I walked over to the Slytherin table I felt both disappointment and relief that the still sealed letter had fallen underneath it. At least it hadn’t been a no and it hadn’t been an absolute embarrassment. 

  
That's when I really had to take a deep breath and try to decide what to do next. I’ve had the instinct for actually quite a while now that Malfoy was a different person than his public face played him out to be. Proven on numerous occasions to me, even if Ron didn’t always see it. Ron and Hermione both kept telling me to just get on with it and ask him. Probably so they don’t have to listen to me whine and moan about it after the third attempt, which turned out to be a worse embarrassment than the first. 

  
That’s when I told them they shouldn’t have bitched to me the last seven years about each other then. Considering the fall out of their relationship I admit it was a bit of a low blow, but I listened to them nag on about each other for years. They can handle a bloody month of it since I have fancied the Slytherin since the start of term. 

  
I never admitted to a soul before then about my interest because I was full of my own conflicting feelings. Then again I still am so I guess it doesn't make any real difference. Except now there is the stress of actually acting on them versus just secretly pining over him. That is what had me on edge and flooded with anxiety. 

  
A typical interaction of ours is where I managed to make some progress. It was one of our little altercations I had grown to enjoy over the years for one reason or the other. Back then probably because it got me closer to an opportunity to punch him. Now though it gave me the opportunity to be within close range without reason. 

  
Being only two days before the ball I was just ready to call it quits before then. Just go to the ball on my own, watch my friends, and enjoy myself. Enjoy it like I hadn’t allowed myself to do back in fourth year. After all it wasn’t like I ever expected to see another Triwizard Tournament again. I should make the most of this rare opportunity during my last year at Hogwarts. Unless I became a professor of course, the decision is yet to be determined still. 

  
When the asshole bumped into me it caused my book bag to fall to the floor, scattering it's contents across the width of the hall. I growled in irritation. It had taken everything not to just shove him against the wall and finally kiss him. Especially when he smirked at me. That beautiful smirk that twisted my stomach. He was practically provoking the boiling cauldron inside me that was ready to explode from overall frustration. 

  
“What's the matter Potter?” he had asked me. 

  
I didn’t know what to say back which resulted in me growing more frustrated. 

  
That’s when he tilted his head at me in what appeared to be mock curiosity. “Something on your mind?” 

  
Instantly my mouth opens to reply, but then my brain catches up sending a wave of doubt through me. It’s something I want though so I try to push past it. Still the way he just looks at me. Smirk tugging higher in the corner of his mouth. Blond hair that has grown slightly out so it’s resting on his forehead neatly. Face pale, smooth, and pointed as ever. 

  
To my own shame I open and close my mouth again trying to think of something snarky to say back instead of asking him to go with me. Even at that I failed. 

  
Malfoy huffs a small laugh as he turns to leave and I start to panic seeing his back. He can’t leave because if he does I just know I won’t be able to ask him considering I haven’t been able to yet. 

  
“Wait,” I said, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder before he got too far away. He steeled in my grip, but he turned regardless. His facial expression was much harder with narrow eyes that were now trying to actually read me versus taunting me. It would be easier if they could. Maybe I should just ask if he was able to perform legilimency, it would save me a whole hell of a lot of trouble. 

  
“Spit it out,” Malfoy said in a low dangerous tone when I didn’t answer. It caused my breathing to pick up from nervous anticipation. Just as I go to speak, to even ask him, a group of underclass students from Hufflepuff walk past us. As soon as one of them caught my eye I lost my nerve and swallowed the words that had started to form.

  
“Tonight,” is all I dared to say as the group looks back. While Hermione, Ron, and a handful of the Gryffindors might know my sexual preferences the entirety of the school most certainly does not. 

  
“Tonight?” Malfoy repeated. I can hear the disapproval towards me as he says it.

  
I nod once, not even finding the nerve again to look at him again. “Astronomy tower. Midnight.”

  
It’s not hard to choose where to have this conversation. I already know the prat visits the place every Saturday night. Not that I’ve continued to use the map quite frequently or anything. 

  
Malfoy scoffed. “Pray tell why I would break curfew, on probation might I add, to supposedly meet up with you? Especially on a bloody Wednesday.”

  
“Because you want to know,” was an easy reply that slid off my tongue and it allowed me to look at him confidently again. Malfoy was never good at keeping his nose out of my business and we both know it. He definitely didn’t like being called out on that if the way he ground his teeth together was anything to go by. 

  
His irritated stance makes a smile of my own form. “Or….maybe you don’t,” I shrugged, deliberately giving him a very obvious once over. His height being so close to my own looking to his shoes makes me have to tilt my head downward a tad since we aren’t very far apart. His robes hardly brush his ankles. “Guess that it's up to you.” 

  
Malfoy’s expression gives off nothing, but then his eyes flicker across my face. I wonder what he finds because when he is done seconds later he turns on a heel. Heading down the hall, leaving me to clean up my mess and books in satisfied annoyance.   
  
XXXXXXXXXXX

I decide I’m just going to admire him for a moment. He is actually fidgeting with the hem of his robe sleeve that for some reason he hasn't changed out of. One leg bouncing up and down as he leans against the stone wall. I’m not sure if that is a good sign or bad sign, but when he stands away from the wall and takes a step as if to leave I act on instinct. 

  
Honestly I hadn’t expected him to show, so before I allowed myself to sneak out of the common room I had checked the map. It was a relief when I saw his dot there alone. I’m sure he considered it a trap sometime during the day. There was one point I would have worried it would be one as well. Defeating a dark wizard though trivial hexes don’t worry me anymore. 

  
“Malfoy,” I say as I reveal myself taking the step from around the corner. It’s interesting the way he goes back to leaning against the stone, crossing his arms looking calm and unbothered like he hadn’t seconds before. Almost as if he flipped some switch within himself. 

  
He looks me up and down like he was waiting for something to happen. Then again I suppose he is because he definitely isn’t admiring my plain worn jumper and jeans. “Potter,” was his only reply. 

  
Something in me stirred almost like a challenge in the way he said my name. Maybe it was the lingering effects it had always had on me since first year. Except now there was more a rush of excitement behind hearing it instead of boiling anger. 

  
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” I admitted a bit quieter.

  
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he replies and it’s dripping in so much sarcasm it causes me to clench my jaw. 

  
“I didn’t think you had,” I said back, and I can’t help but lift the corner of my mouth, pleased when he raises a tall eyebrow. Chewing on my cheek I walk over and lean against the wall next to him. For a few seconds I merely watch the moon's reflection on the cold water of the lake. Thank Merlin the tower has built in charms that are keeping the freezing winter air out. 

  
“Are you ready for the ball?” I ask him, because honestly I have no idea where to even begin. Am I supposed to outright ask? If I do there is the high possibility of making a huge fool of myself by assuming where the man stands in regards to romantic desires. I’m afraid of having been overly hopeful by allowing myself to think too much about what I’ve already seen. Although I’m certain I know the answer, at least to his witch to wizard preferences. Perhaps even about me. 

  
“Interesting question,” he said with thoughtfulness to his voice as he also stared out over the grounds. “What's it to you?”

  
Clearing my throat I realized it was suddenly too dry. Why couldn’t this be easier? What am I supposed to say? ‘Of course it matters because I want you to go with me even though we have practically hated each other for seven years’....sounds kind of desperate putting it like that. Granted lately I've wondered if it was actually true hate of just another weird added complexity to all the issues that have been my life. There were many times now when I think back about it where it seems like he was just begging for my attention. Which he usually got, but in a negative way.

  
“It's nothing to me if I don't know,” I finally replied truthfully.

  
Malfoy hummed, and already I can feel myself blushing. “I’m more curious as to why it only won’t matter if you don’t know,” he replies with a hint of smugness. 

  
Damn Slytherins always seem to know how to work around things. His response makes me blush even harder because he is going to make me say it outright. Removing a hand from my warm pocket to rub against my neck. It’s soothing. Hopefully he doesn’t pick up my nerves too much. 

  
“I was just kind of thinking…..well….what if we....I don't know….go together?” I ask hesitantly. Really it sounds more like an offer. I kick myself mentally, but it still feels like a relief. A weight is finally off my chest even if I’m turned down. My hesitance does make it sound pretty pitiful. Of course he doesn’t miss that weakness.

  
The blond scoffed right away, but I can hear the playfulness. “That’s pitiful Potter. If you’re trying to ask me to the ball that is not at all how you go about it.” 

  
“Not my fault you let Parkinson snatch up the flowers. Then you'd have your perfect little formal pureblood invitation,” I said rolling my eyes, remembering the irritation I’d felt watching the witch grab them. When I realized I’d said it out loud I thought my face was going to explode from the overwhelming heat. Either he knew or he was mocking me. Either way I outed myself.

  
“So this actually is some lame arse attempt isn't it?” Malfoy finally asks after a moment, obviously not fully believing me.

  
I chance a glance out of the corner of my eye. He isn’t looking at me. It’s more like he is looking at nothing actually. Lost in thought…... and then his eyes flicker back to life. Looking at me and then it’s that feeling again. That feeling wonderful feeling where the world just seems to zone in on him. 

  
“Why?” There is no emotion in his voice but it seems to echo around the tower. 

  
In the moment I feel much more confident under his gaze. I don’t know why at all. He wants me to answer, and I want to give him that. “Why not?”

  
His grey eyes spark with something mischievous which is highlighted by the moon. I can feel my heart pumping a little harder in my chest. 

  
“How about because Im a death eater…” he starts.

  
“Ex death eater,” I cut in hotly. I didn’t defend his sorry arse in the trials for no good reason.

  
Both his eyebrows raise at the unexpected response. “...ex….death eater then,” he continues slowly. “Majority of the school hates me, you’re the bloody Saviour, we have always hated each other specifically, and oh I don’t know….apparently no one is aware you are gay? Is The Yule Ball really how you want to come out?”

  
“Bisexual,” I correct him. “Fuck the school, fuck being the bloody Saviour already, and I haven’t hated you for a long time.” Being the stupid Saviour is a pain in the arse and I loathe being called that. 

  
Malfoy nods along with my words appearing to agree. “Yes you aren’t exactly subtle now are you.” It’s a statement not a fact. “Like sixth year all over again except looking like you want to curse me you look like you want to snog me to death instead.” 

  
I can’t help it but I actually laugh when he says that. Then I laugh harder because I’m laughing, and he isn’t wrong. “What do you want me to say? I….I don’t think I can deny that.”

  
Malfoy smiles with a hidden laugh under his breath. I know it’s there even if he doesn’t think it’s vocal, and it causes me to melt a little inside. Then the smile fades and yet again I’m met with doubt. “Why me?” he asks again. 

  
Sighing and ruffling my hair in avoidable. The wood grain of the floor gives me something else to also focus on. It feels like there are a hundred wrong answers for every right one. “Can I not just want to?” 

  
“You’re mental,” he says flatly. 

  
It’s my turn to raise my eyebrows at him. “If there is one thing I’ve learned Malfoy….normality is not exactly my style…..no matter how much I wish it was.” The term normal was something I had had to talk a lot with the muggle therapist about. There had been no way I was going to trust a wizarding mind healer with all my issues. Normal was just something I would never be. 

  
Malfoy looks at me a moment longer. Now I can easily pick up the hidden smile he wears behind what I previously would have considered an emotionless face. You can see it in his eyes and the barely noticeable tug of his lips. 

  
Finally he shrugs one shoulder carelessly. “It’s a bad idea...” he trails off and my heart sinks at the words. It was a bad idea and I’m not sure how I ever managed to make myself go through all this to ask him. The first however many failed attempts should have been a sign. 

  
“...but how can I say no?” The Slytherin adds with a smirk like he had been happy to see the drop my face must have made. It’s his turn to give me an obvious once over. “Maybe tall, reckless, trouble making, secret holding, hot headed Gryffindorks with green glasses have always been…..my style.” His words are smooth and I have to lick my lips due to excitement. According to him I wasn’t wrong. 

XXXXXXXXXX

Right about now I can’t believe I let them talk me into this whole ball thing to begin with. When it had been first announced by McGonagall at the end of the start of term feast I had sworn I wouldn’t go. Then slowly but surely as everyone started getting excited, especially the other 8th years, it had infected me along with them. 

  
It was hard not to be when literally everyone I knew was talking about it. Including professors. With beautiful enticing Beauxbatons witches and the wizards of Durmstrang walking around I understood how it was nearly unavoidable. Even I had to admit a lot were eye-catching. I’d briefly talked up a few Durmstrang blokes mostly to learn more about the school and some were even friends with Viktor. It was more learning and friendship than anything else. Especially because by that point Malfoy had been in my head a long time. 

  
That’s when I started entertaining the idea of asking the Slytherin to go with me. However now that he has said yes I’m both excited and terrified. It’s probably going to be absolutely humiliating. I just know it, although I don’t know for which reason. As soon as Malfoy sees me though he is going to fall over laughing. That is if the whole thing is even real to begin with. Maybe I dreamt it up. 

  
A rough tug on my hair, where it is attempting to be styled upwards against its will, reminds me it isn’t a dream. The pain is very much real. It doesn’t help at all that my back hits the stupid wooden chair they conjured for me. I don’t see why I couldn’t have just sat on one of the much more comfortable couches. Apparently it made for bad posture though and unproportioned cuts or whatever. Considering I’m already regretting the whole thing, does it really matter if I care? Not really.

  
Somehow Seamus, Dean, and Ron talked me into letting Lavender give me a makeover. As I glare into the fire I’m cursing the whole lot of them. The witch has plans of being a makeup artist or stylist or something. I just agreed to let her do her thing because I didn’t know what else to do. An hour until the ball started everyone else was basically ready except for me. That put me into the situation. Banished glasses I miss, a quick temporary eye correction used when jinxed that feels weird, and Dean’s clothes that are kind of snug in what I’d say are the wrong places. He insists they are the right places.

  
Aside from Seamus's and Dean's very blatantly proud relationship, Ron had gotten back together with Lavender. Hardly a month and half into the new school year. Having been attacked by Fenrir seemed to have matured her. Although I suppose anyone that had a brush with death would change some. I did after all, and it appeared so had Malfoy. 

  
I had actually been worried Ron and Hermione’s short little thing together would put a damper on their friendship. Therefore recreating the awkwardness I had had to deal with during fourth and sixth year all over again. Surprisingly it hadn’t, and I couldn’t have been more grateful. I got to keep my best friends even if we didn’t always hang out like we used to. 

  
There are aww's and words of, what sounds like, encouragement that I don’t pay attention to as I'm patted on the shoulder and allowed to get up….finally. I don’t even have time to look at myself because it’s so close to time for the ball to start that they are all pushing me out of the portrait. One of the good things is it doesn’t give me much time to panic as we descend the stairs in a buzz of excitement. So much so that the other portraits are watching us with mixed amusement and irritation. They are probably going to be cranky tomorrow due to lack of fake sleep from all the noise we will be creating. 

  
I do find time to panic though as everyone else starts separating, with the exception of Ron and Lavender, and Malfoy is nowhere to be seen. He had been right and had probably bailed on him. It was a bad idea. My dorm bed was sounding very appealing until Ron nudged me. 

  
“Oi what the….” I start to complain, rubbing my ribcage. Ron nods towards a hidden alcove off to the left though and I follow his eyes with my own. A smile larger than I meant spread across my features seeing Malfoy’s pale face visible, even in the depths of the shadows. He was mostly hidden. I don’t even know how Ron had spotted him. 

  
“Good luck with this mate,” Ron says as an eager Lavender drags him off through the wide open doors of the Great Hall where other students are still flooding in. Music is already loud and lively. 

  
When Malfoy doesn’t move I beckon him over with a wave towards me. He looks around appearing torn before he finally straightens up and walks over to me. Really he doesn't look that different since he is prone to always dressing posh anyways. That loose black open suit with a loose white button up shirt and no tie on the other hand…..it's like he wore it specifically because he knew what it does to me. He glows in it, reeking of confidence and maturity. Well…...mature is a generous word but it fits.

  
“Still want to do this?” he asks nonchalantly, adjusting the silver cuffs on his sleeves. Internally I'm thanking Dean for his choice of clothing. Having dressed me in a simple silver undershirt with a vest that is nothing but an abstract mess of silver and black, we match. Dean had made me forgo the matching jacket and I wish Malfoy had left his behind. It was going to be hot anyways with all the bodies and dancing.

  
“You look amazing,” and it comes out a tad breathlessly. Malfoy straightens his collar and I'm getting the hint perhaps it's a nervous tick like how I mess up my hair. Which Lavender would probably kill me for if I did it at the moment. 

  
“I know I do,” Malfoy smirked. “….but I imagine your standards…”

  
“Shut up and take the compliment git,” and the light hearted feeling is wonderful. It doesn't feel like an insult anymore. Just a playful jab. From his expression the feeling is mutual. 

  
More students rush past us in a hurry and I'm momentarily distracted. Long enough that it turns out Malfoy uses that time to check me out without my awareness. 

  
“I must say…..you clean up nicer than I expected Potter,” he said. The approval doesn't seem so much direct to me, instead to everyone who helped. It's me he is looking at and liking what he sees. 

  
“Let's go,” I say, offering him my arm out of instinct. At first he looks at it like it's something foreign, but then he slowly takes it. I can feel his arm wrap around mine and it causes my skin to tingle even though there is a fabric barrier. 

  
Under his breath is a quite audible ‘mental’. I'm not sure who he is directing it at, himself or me. Both is probably the correct answer. 

  
With what feel like forced steps, despite wanting to take them, I walk us into the Great Hall side by side to join our friends. His or mine I don’t really care. Everyone seems mostly pleasant post war with the exception of few individuals. None of which I’ve seen Malfoy hang out with. 

  
Within the first ten seconds of entering the Great Hall all eyes were on us. It was only slightly uncomfortable for me since I’m mostly used to it at this point, but I could tell Malfoy tense up just by the air between us. I didn't even need to feel the stiffness of his arm in mine. 

  
I lean in close to his ear and resist taking his hand for a gentle reassuring squeeze. Then to my own surprise I took it anyway. He was warm despite his icy look and I definitely had to squeeze harder to get it to relax at all. 

  
“Don't even bother with them,” I told him, trying to pretend I don't notice the three dozen students whispering and watching us. At least there were another dozen or so still dancing. 

  
Malfoy pressed his lips into a thin line even though his facial expression otherwise remained unchanged. “This was a mistake,” he said tightly.

  
“Why?” and the feeling is genuine hurt on my end. 

  
“Look at them Potter. Look at us,” Malfoy said, like we didn't know who we are, turning to face me and dropping my hand to gesture between us. “What in Merlin are we doing here together?” he asked. 

  
I blink back disbelief. As if the prat had expected anything else. “I'm pretty sure we are here for the ball. Drink and dance just like everyone else.”

  
“You dance like a drunk monkey,” he stated with irritation. 

  
“Good to know you were watching back then,” and my response causes Malfoy to blush. “Come on. I'll even let you hex any asshole that bugs us,” I offer because frankly any and all of them meddling in my business deserve it anymore.

  
The blond rolled his eyes. “Probation Potter. One hex and I end up in a cell.” 

  
I shrug carelessly. “Okay then. I'll hex them,” and Malfoy's eyebrows raise in apparent approval, a grin finally forming on his face. I had a feeling something a bit more reckless would tempt him and really it would be immensely satisfying for myself. Especially if it was someone like Zachary or Michael. 

  
Taking his hand again I tug him into the hall avoiding the looks of anyone that isn’t a friend as I weave our way over to them. Most are either lost in playful conversation, drinking or dancing like loons. Neville, Dean and Seamus compliment us on our entrance, even though there isn’t even anything to compliment but everyone else seems otherwise engaged. It gives Malfoy and me time to adjust to such a public lively setting. It takes a good five minutes but soon everyone is back to their activities which causes us both to relax. 

  
The evening moves along slowly, yet somehow fast. It is so unlike fourth year even though it's the same ball and the same schools. Just the atmosphere is what’s different. Snow still falls from the enchanted ceiling for affect, disappearing half way before it gets to us. The entire Great Hall shimmers with the paler blue tones and white with only the black of the men's dress robes and red of Durmstrangs really sticking out. Pretty much every student is all smiles and there is a lightness in the air. 

  
Of course Malfoy wasn't wrong saying I can't dance for shite. That's why I quickly let him take the lead when I boldly encourage us to dance to what sounds like a pretty easy song. It's a little more fluid following someone else. Although he might have growled at me a few times for scuffing his boots with my own. 

  
It's really weird to be dancing together, at all let alone in front of a crowd. Thankfully only an hour or two in most are already absorbed in the fire whiskey numerous students, mostly Seamus, have snuck in. Hidden away in their trousers or the sweaty tops of witches blouses I’d rather not touch just for a drink. We avoid drinking anyways instead choosing to laugh lightly and observe when we aren’t moving about or chatting occasionally with others. 

  
We don't really talk a whole whole lot amongst ourselves. Mostly because it doesn't feel necessary. Not in the awkward way, but in the just content to be next to each other way. Pointing out some of the foolish behavior happening together is fun. It seems most of the same stuff amuses us. Like how Seamus's tie is around Dean's waist pulling him closer as he is trying to escape. Or how Neville has grown so bold that he and Ginny are snogging in the corner despite a few professors lurking about. I'm truly happy for both of them. 

  
Malfoy also points out the amusement that is Parkinson guiding a very drunk Bulstrode away from a patrolling Flitwick. Not that he would probably mind. Turns out Malfoy never paid much attention to charms since he tells me, although I already knew thanks to the Potter Stinks badges, he is naturally gifted on the subject. Flitwick is one of the best professors in the whole school in my opinion.

  
A few more drinks later for all of us and Ron turns up at my side nearly too drunk, granted not to Bulstrodes level. He takes to nagging in my ear to join him and Lavender on the dance floor since all our other friends have run off doing Merlin knows what. Even Hermione supposedly ran off with some Durmstrang bloke, presuming to snog. It's amusing seeing the witch just has a natural drawing to the foreign men. 

  
It takes a fair bit of persuasion on both mine and Ron’s end to get Malfoy back out on the dance floor. Mostly to shut Ron up though because even I am not that keen on going back out. We were having loads of fun just watching everyone. It will probably be the last one for us since I'm getting tired and it's losing its appeal. 

  
I'd rather do other things than dance with and it seems so would Draco. For some reason I can imagine him just wanting to chat on a blanket in the astronomy tower since it’s where he likes to spend some of his time. It would be peaceful there. I can see him pointing out all the constellations since I’d bet galleons he knows them all. All the Black descendants do. 

  
I’m glad this song isn’t slow. Then again it's not exactly fast either. It’s more along the perfect speed to occupy people, but for others to calm down a bit as well. Malfoy seems content to just be one of the more calm ones as am I. We just sway a little to appease others and not just stand there like prats. 

  
A lot of the night dancing we have remained separate when dancing with the exception of three. Now though he is the one who makes the first move of holding my hand until I place the other on his waist as the music flows. It feels magical. Him feeling comfortable enough around me to do something so physical. 

  
How stupid does that sound? I’ve held his hand quite easily but it seems more of a step on his end. Much like how simply asking him to come with me had been nearly impossible step for me. Hell in the end I hardly did. He had to drag it out of me. 

  
Now it feels like I need to be bolder. I am the Gryffindor after all, and I think I’ve wanted this more than him, or at least wanted it enough to pursue it. I don’t think he ever would have and I want him to know I wish he had. Or that he would continue. He is special in his own way and I love it about him. Snide remarks, brilliant brain, and all. It’s worth the risk to show him how I really feel.

  
I don’t even care that we are among most of the study body. More than the study body if I want to consider the other two schools. It all just seems to fade into the background. I feel as honed in on the man as when I had cast the crucio on Alectro. Intense and fueled by something. 

  
Without thinking about the consequences my hands drop from him and gravitate towards his neck. His hands go to my forearms as if worried I’m going to strangle him, but he doesn’t stop me. In his eyes I can see panic from the Manor, but I also can see the anticipation and excitement from years of being in each other's faces almost like they were now. 

  
That's when I kiss him on the lips, and I'm filled with life when he doesn't shove me away like I'm something sick. Instead he is actually kissing me back and my heart’s pounding in my ears. All I hear, smell, and feel is Draco. Everything seemed to click into place at once and make sense. Years of this back and forth leading to this one moment of celebration that is now for another reason than some stupid trophey. It’s a moment where for once everything feels perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> You are free to add my authors account on Facebook, Rayne Undesirable, for snippets, general fanfic/HP meme sharing, new fic link sharing, recommendations, and it is where you can nag me. It is purely a fanfic focused account.


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